Home: Interstellar: Merchant Princess

by Strong, Ray

  “I got ten, I’m sure,” Becky said, taking the toroidal device from her belt and giving it to Meriel as she passed her.

  Sandy frowned. “Then I musta got fifteen.”

  “But yours were small,” Becky said and stepped into the kitchen closet.

  “No they weren’t!”

  Just as the girls closed the closet door, the dust cloud engulfed the farm with winds much stronger than the day in the schoolhouse. The wind blew the flying droids away, but the crawling droids simply dropped their center of gravity.

  John pressed the red button on the box, and a holo of the farm compound popped up. Red dots moved toward the center of the screen and approached one of a series of concentric red circles. He tapped the side of Meriel’s goggles and then his own.

  The goggles cast a heads-up display of the same dots, grid, and symbols shown on the panel but only those within her field of view. Real objects in the compound were contrast-enhanced so that the edges glowed slightly in the display. The halo made the objects appear as in a virtual-reality game, but this was real time. The sensor array was outside the kitchen, so it appeared she could see through the walls. When she turned her head, the view changed to match her field of vision. It also matched the information on the holo. She turned around to look toward the front of the house and the road, and she saw no dots. Instead, the dots were converging on the farm compound from the rear and resolving into figures as they approached. Without this tool, the dust storm would blind them. This was marine equipment, maybe better. Not defenseless, huh.

  Meriel could feel the electricity in the air caused by the dust storm. Lightning flashed, and her goggles fogged momentarily to protect her eyes, and each time the lightning flashed, one of the red lights blinked and died.

  She raised the toroidal device to John’s view. “I saw the girls playing with this,” she asked. “What is it?”

  “Dunno. It’s from Annie’s kit. She set up the defenses here. Took the bag with her on her last mission.”

  “To kill the Blackout-Box?”

  John nodded.

  “What does this do?”

  “Really, M, I don’t know, and I don’t care right now. Pay attention.”

  Meriel put the toroidal device down on the counter again but stared at it.

  John pressed a button, and bright flashes beamed from the tops of the buildings. The flashes lured attackers to fire their weapons, which allowed John’s defense grid to confirm their locations and weaponry. When an attacker shot at a flash, an exploding concussion device, such as the one John had used at Wolf Station, exploded nearby to disabled him. Some of the dots on the panel remained motionless while others reached the red line. Meriel’s hair fluffed for a second after he activated the second switch to detonate focused EMP devices. These weapons would make all electronic weapons and drones useless, but soldiers would still be alive and dangerous.

  “Annie built these for the second attack by BioLuna,” John said over the howling wind.

  Some small explosions went off, and one of the red dots blinked, dimmed, and disappeared. Every few seconds, yellow beams shot from the tops of the buildings, and other red dots blinked out.

  “Three-hundred-nanometer laser,” John said. “The yellow are tracers from different locations to warn us. They won’t see the source, but neither can we.”

  A squad of drones crawled up and circled the farmhouse where John, Meriel, and the girls hid. Most of the defenses were down now. Across the kitchen, a link they had not noticed buzzed and blinked, and Meriel went to check it.

  From: S. K.

  Please pick up.

  Meriel put the link on the hands-free setting.

  “Ah, there you are, Ms. Hope,” Khanag’s voice came from the link. “You’ve given me great distress. It is my hope that I can provide you with the same discomfort.”

  “What do you want?” Meriel asked.

  “Your mates from the Princess have remained elusive, so I have had to improvise,” he said. A slight delay in response implied that Khanag’s message originated from space, not close by. “Mr. Smith,” Khanag said. “Your farm is surrounded, and our ordnance is set to destroy you. A well-fought defense, but in the end, it is inadequate to the task—like all the works of unbelievers. Your daughters cannot survive, Smith.”

  The link projected a picture of John’s girls entering the closet. Then there were two views of them in the kitchen. Then four, and then eight—one from each drone.

  “You bastard!” John exclaimed.

  “Yes, yes, that is what they say of all audacious visionaries,” Khanag said. “Your weapons are useless, Smith. We have many more corsairs than you have defenses.” They watched as one of the drones spun in the compound and set fire to the barn with laser blasts.

  “OK, where do you want me?” Meriel asked while looking out the window for a place to hide outside away from the girls, but the storm and lightning still raged. She turned and spoke into the link. “I’ll trade myself for the girls, of course.”

  Khanag laughed. “Oh, no, Ms. Hope, there is no chance that any of you will escape. I wish you to see them die first, slowly. Like all of those close to you when they arrive.”

  “You’re just a cold-hearted thug,” she said. John shook his head and signaled her to keep Khanag talking while he reprogrammed the control box.

  “Hardly, Ms. Hope,” Khanag said. “My corsairs and I value all life. Our prophet tells us that ending a single life is like killing all of humanity. Everyone should be given the opportunity to accept the prophet’s teachings and submit to his mercy. You were given the opportunity aboard the Princess ten years ago, and you declined.”

  “I was a child, and you didn’t ask.”

  “Your parents chose for you, and they paid for their lack of vision.”

  “You tortured them.”

  “Ah, yes, my interrogation team. That’s right. You’ve seen their work. I should rein them in, but they do enjoy it so. And they are effective.”

  “What did they tell you?” she asked and wiped the tears away to see the dots on the heads-up display move closer.

  “I really don’t remember,” Khanag said with a laugh, “but like them, you have declined. Now you are anathema and have less value than an insect that I might crush under my boot.”

  Lightning struck nearby and thunder followed almost immediately. Static crackled the air, and she touched the metal cabinet to ground herself.

  Meriel looked over to John who was feverishly tapping on the little keypad. She needed to stall for more time. “I’ll convert,” she said. “No conditions.”

  “Ah, now you understand.”

  “I’ll make it public and wear the veil. I’ll be the most celebrated convert in history, your former victim, granting forgiveness. The…publicity will be invaluable,” she said, avoiding the first word that came to mind: propaganda.

  “Yes, useful. This was foretold.”

  “By who?”

  “The prophet himself, the archtrope.”

  “And the girls would be safe?” Meriel asked. She looked to John, who raised his index finger.

  “There can be no conditions, Ms. Hope. They, like you, would be at the archtrope’s mercy. But he may be generous.”

  “You’ve already discussed this with him?” Meriel asked, feeling some hope for the first time.

  “Of course, but your turning up alive after this incident would be…problematic. But all this is of no concern any longer.”

  In the background, Meriel heard Khanag say, “Yes, thank you,” to someone.

  “Khanag?”

  “I am grateful for our little conversation, Ms. Hope,” Khanag continued. “Had you simply died here without giving us a chance to record your voice and mannerisms, my mission would have failed. Your usefulness is at an end now, and your avatar will suffice. Let’s see. Who will die first?”

  “But you have to do what the archtrope says!” Meriel said.

  “Don’t be silly. He is my spiritual g
uide, not my commander,” Khanag said, but Meriel could hardly hear him over the howling wind.

  John tapped a toggle on the box and showed it to Meriel. “It’s all wired to this now. But don’t—” A bright-red spot distracted them, a spot that moved across John’s chest to his stomach. He looked down, and the spot exploded in blood. John flew back against the wall and slid to the floor. Meriel ran over to him to put a compress on the wound.

  “Yes, he will die slowly with a stomach wound,” Khanag said, “but he will die long before you will. What a glorious day this will be. I will secure a home for my people and the end of a decade-long distraction.”

  “Please, spare the girls. I’ll surrender to you,” she said and grabbed the weapons box that fell from John’s hand.

  “No, Ms. Hope. We’re not done. Yes, I understand that you would sacrifice yourself for them, even if you don’t believe in our cause.”

  Meriel fumbled with the box, trying to configure the weapons. “Of course I would.”

  “You are much like me, Ms. Hope, putting your people ahead of yourself.”

  “My kids?”

  “And my archers, as they are called. Like you, I am loyal to those I care for.”

  Two red dots from laser sights converged on the closet door.

  “You have no idea who I am, thug,” Meriel spat at the link. “Maybe you didn’t get the text, but I’m not that helpless little kid who had to hide in a hold while you butchered my family and friends.”

  Meriel hit a switch on the box. An explosion lit up the yard outside the porch, and the two red dots disappeared.

  “Defiant to the last. Well, we’ll see.”

  Five more red dots converged on the closet.

  “You bastard!” Meriel said and hit two more switches. Four of the five lights disappeared, but ten new lights shone against the closet door.

  “No, no, no,” Meriel muttered while struggling to configure the weapons box. She panicked and dropped the box. The tart smell of ozone caused her to raise her head to see a laser beam slicing through the walls of the kitchen on an arc that would intersect the red laser sights shining on the closet.

  “Soon now,” Khanag said.

  “You’re not hurting my kids!” Meriel shouted. She closed her eyes and held the medallion of JCS on her necklace for a moment, and then she hit all the switches on the box. The lights and defensive weapons in the yard dimmed as a low rumble from the generator shook the kitchen. She heard a loud click as a bright flash lit up the yard like a dockside construction site and cast her silhouette onto the kitchen closet. In that split second, the glare froze the dust in midair. The texture of the boards on the kitchen wall, the tear in the screen door, and the outline of the mechs in the yard that targeted her impressed their images on her retina before her goggles could fog.

  She turned her head and raised her arm to protect her eyes, and a millisecond later, the farm erupted in flames. The blast blew the door in, and Meriel was thrown to the back wall of the kitchen.

  ***

  Elizabeth, Cookie, and Abrams reached the rubble of the hilltop bunker just in time to see explosions light up the sky in the west that threw debris above the wall of the dust cloud that approached them.

  Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “That’s the direction of John’s farm. Meriel and the girls are there. All that hardware in the valley will grind them up.”

  “Focus, girl. We’ll not be able to help her if we die here.”

  From the unrestricted view of the valley afforded by the hilltop bunker, Cookie surveyed their situation. Below them were thousands of armed mechs and drones, but Elizabeth’s EMP cannon could not function without a power source and his team had no other weapons.

  “What have we got here to defend ourselves?” Cookie asked.

  Abrams sat with his head in his hands and rocked back and forth, crashing from the effects of the painkillers. Without looking up, he pointed his link toward a small door in the side of the bunker. “Push the red button,” he said. Cookie did, and the wall of the bunker slid aside and exposed an arsenal with a large assortment of weapons. Cookie and Elizabeth went inside.

  Cookie stared at a rack from which a very large weapon hung. “Oh, this, I like,” he said while running his hands over an antique twentieth-century minigun, a small Gatling gun with six rotating barrels. He put the harness on his shoulder and slung the weapon in front of him.

  Abrams limped over to Cookie. “You like that?” he said. “Then you’re really gonna like this one.” Abrams limped over to a metal cabinet that held a laser gatler, a huge but lightweight weapon with shoulder straps and a series of ten tubes that rested on the user’s hip. “The lasers run hot, and the focusing tubes will warp, so we alternate the tubes every hundred milliseconds or so. Capacitor is below us,” he said and pointed to a thick cable.

  “Oorah!” Cookie said over the roar of wind from the approaching dust storm.

  “Here, you’ll need these,” Abrams said. He tossed goggles and dust masks to each of them.

  Abrams found a cable for Elizabeth’s EMP cannon, and the three of them set up their weapons at the edge of the bunker and watched the dust storm drift toward them. The gray cloud swallowed everything in its path as it swept through the valley. The mechs disappeared and reappeared briefly when lightning burst within the dust.

  “Did you decide yet?” Cookie asked.

  “About what?” Elizabeth said.

  “Bridge or marines.”

  “Kinda busy now.”

  “You like it, or you don’t. Now’s the time, you know,” he said.

  “It’s not about the battle, Sergeant,” Elizabeth said. “It’s about the why. It’s about the what for.”

  Cookie smiled. “Same thing.”

  “’Sides, I’m not much good with rules and orders.”

  Cookie nodded and looked back to the valley. “Runs in your family,” he said and turned to Abrams. “So what are they waiting for?”

  “The techs to catch up,” Abrams said. He frowned, struggled to his feet, and then pulled down the goggles and adjusted the magnification.

  “Why the look?” Cookie asked.

  “If they’re heading for town, why didn’t they land nearer to it? Why are they committing so many resources here?”

  Cookie looked through his goggles and increased the magnification. He sat back and shook his head. “Where’s the Blackout-Box, Lieutenant.”

  “Uh…what’s left of it is in the complex. But it’s a hulk. It’s broken, and we can’t fix it. We tried for years.”

  Cookie pointed to a large building overlooked by a hill. Behind the hill, drones gathered with unarmed technicians and grav-sleds loaded with equipment. “Is that it?”

  “Is that what?” Elizabeth asked.

  “The Box,” Cookie said.

  Abrams jaw dropped. “Crap, it’s in there. But it’s broken.”

  “Yeah, you said that,” Cookie replied. “They built it, maybe they can fix it.”

  “If they can, we’re in big trouble,” He tapped on his link, but his hands shook. He closed his eyes and tightened his fists. Cookie caught him before he fainted.

  “You’ve lost a lot of blood, soldier,” Cookie said. “Better sit.”

  “Sorry,” Abrams said.

  Headquarters answered Abrams’s call, and he told them of the activity near the Blackout-Box.

  “Yes, sir,” Abrams said and turned to his team. “Looks like they think they can use it. Our mission is here now. Colonel Lee is on the other side of the valley. Our job is to pound them and hope we can thin out their forces.”

  “There’s more,” Cookie said.

  Abrams nodded. “They’re not telling me everything.” He pointed to flashing lights above the dust cloud in the direction of the capital at Stewardville. “The capital is under attack from the south, but they’re not surrendering. If they bring the Box online or this force reaches them from the east, they won’t have much choice.”

  Cookie and Elizabe
th nodded. And the valley began to stir.

  “Here they come,” Abrams said. Not just drones, but mechs and men on ATVs raced to the building housing the Blackout-Box. In a few seconds, the valley undulated with moving equipment.

  Cookie turned on the laser gatler, and the armature spun up to a loud whine. They opened fire. So did soldiers in the bunkers on the other side of the valley, and the battlefield filled with light.

  As the sea of mechs and drones passed through the valley, Cookie stood atop the broken ramparts for better shooting—the gun on his hip spat out laser blasts, the power cable behind him glowed with overcurrent. Elizabeth kept the flying drones away from Cookie with the EMP cannon. With crossfire from the bunker on the opposite ridge, they thinned out the invading army. As they fired, the dust cloud moved through the valley, and the invaders dissolved into the haze.

  The dust cloud hit with howling winds, taking the flying drones with it. Elizabeth and Cookie were grateful for the goggles, but they could still barely see their targets. The heavy dust scattered the pulses from Cookie’s laser gatler, making it useless, so he grabbed the minigun, went back to the wall, and opened up. He sprayed the valley with slugs; his curses unheard over the roar of the wind and thunder and minigun.

  The lightning became stronger and more frequent and outlined individual targets. A lightning bolt struck the valley below them causing the ground to fluoresce for fifty feet around. It made the ground look like a plasma ball with fingers of lightning dancing across it. Their goggles fogged to protect their eyes, and when they cleared, they saw a smoking hole where the lightning struck. Around it rested the blackened hulks of mechs and droids in various stages of disassembly.

  Cookie and Elizabeth stopped firing and turned their dirt-streaked faces to Abrams and pointed to the hole.

  “Nothing to worry about,” Abrams yelled above the storm. “Bunker’s insulated.” He smiled. “Hell of a show, huh?”

  Cookie looked at Elizabeth and shook his head and resumed strafing the valley.

  The dust storm passed, and Cookie continued to fire into the thick haze until the minigun clogged with dust and ran out of ammunition. He let it spin down and dropped it to the ground where it started a small fire in the native brush.